


The Forest

by NaughtyBees



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abstract, Fear Play, Fluff, Gen, Tension, macro micro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:25:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyBees/pseuds/NaughtyBees
Summary: Angela is alone in a dark forest. Well, she thinks she's alone at first. However, she is sorely mistaken.





	The Forest

**Author's Note:**

> Did this for a competition but it took longer to write than I anticipated  
> Now it serves as a commission example! If you'd like to commission my writing please let me know!

Trees towering like the pillars of some Roman temple, tall and straight, the sky blocked by their mere presence. Darkness despite the noon sun, almost amniotic in its singular isolation. It's cool, the breeze making the leaves whisper as if telling the secrets of the depths of the forest. She walks with gentle steps, breath shallow and choppy as if fearing it might hint at her location. Thoughts buzz around her head as she wonders if she'll make it through the forest alive, knowing that her chances were slim.

A twig snaps underfoot and she cringes, pausing to listen to the silence. Not a chirp of a bird, not a rustle betraying mammalian feet, not a heartbeat to tell of any other life but her own. Yet, she knows she isn't alone. She can feel the gaze on her back as she turns, her head moving to look skyward, eyes wide. Within her chest cavity, her heart feels as though it may burst. She sees him. He sees her. The creature is unfathomable in his enormity, his head almost breaking through the upper canopy of the redwoods, his chest wider than two houses beside one another. His face is a twisted mess of tusks and scars, matted silver hair casting shadows onto his face. Dark eyes pierce her soul and she can't look away, bile rising in her throat. She finds her senses and takes a step back. He notices, leans forward slightly to compensate. 

Again, she moves and again he follows, slowly at first but ever so slightly gaining purpose until he's approaching fast. He must think he's being cautious as she knows such a colossal monster is capable of higher speeds but to her it's as though a mountain were descending upon her. Running backwards, she whimpers, a shriek echoing in the silence as her legs collapse under her, her head hitting the ground with a harsh thump. She looks up, her eyes stinging with tears, vision swimming as she stares up, seeing the monster's huge palm looming above, casting a dark shadow over her. Another scream breaks the silence and she tries to scramble backwards, thorns ripping her skin. The hand stops. It withdraws. She pauses, confused. The monster is still looking at her, its thick brow furrowed, telling her that he was just as perplexed as she was. There's a beat of silence before the shadow covers her again and she pushes her body further over the sharp thorns, stopping as the shadow fades. This happens one more time when the clenched feeling in her stomach begins to be replaced by a queasy sort of curiosity. Perhaps, just perhaps, he doesn't mean her harm. If he sees when she doesn't want a monstrous hand looming above her, he stops. Why else would he do that? Unless he's toying with her. Regardless, he reaches for her again and she steels herself, muscles so tense they burn beneath her bleeding skin. The hand moves closer and closer and her heart is beating so fast, almost the speed of a mouse's. That's what she is. A mouse cornered by a gigantic cat. Her breaths become shallow as she tries to push the panic down into the depths of her chest before it encompasses her. Her eyes squeeze closed and she feels as though she might pass out from the pure instinctual panic coursing through her veins as the colossal beast moves oh so steadily towards her. She can't do it. She just can't. The fear is too much for her. She feels as though she might burst, every pore on her body leaking cold sweat, her breath heaving as her heart beats so hard she sounds like she has hiccups, her trembling making her feel like she was being pummelled by her own body.

Gentle touch. 

Her breath catches in her throat and she looks sideways, seeing the colossal digit. It's akin to a tree in girth, every imprint in the skin visible to her. A fingerprint pressed lightly to her shoulder. She peers up, seeing the giant hunched over, one hand keeping him steady while the other is reached out towards her. She can only pray her decision not to escape wasn't the last one she would ever make. The moments drag by like geriatric slugs, each second adds to tension so thick most knives couldn't cut it.

She starts to breathe a little more evenly, her muscles relax and she feels the high of the adrenaline singing in her veins. This monster doesn't look evil or hungry, his brow is conveying confusion, his eyes curiosity, his finger gently moves with her breaths as if he's amazed that such a dainty thing as herself could be real. 

She tenses again as the hand moves, a lot slower this time and not as frightening. If he was going to hurt her, he would have done it a while ago, right? Still, she has to steel herself as he slips his fingers behind her back, a few gentle movements freeing her clothes and skin from the thorns. The hand keeps moving until has her back and head cradled against his fleshy digits. She can feel the warmth radiating off them, a body temperature higher than hers heating her to her very core, soothing the deep cuts on her skin. It numbs her. Every slight movement, every twitch and muscle spasm is another reminder of the power this beast holds. She tries not to think about how he could kill her with a single flick of the finger, crush the life from her body with a squeeze of his colossal fist. A simple movement could reduce her to nothing. It seems, however, like he has no intention to use this impressive power against her. Instead, she just feels the gentle weight of his digits against her back, the soft and barely audible thump of his pulse behind her. It's fast. Not as fast as hers but a damn sight faster than it should be, his heart loud enough for her to hear even from this distance. He's afraid too. As they look into each other's eyes; there's something between them.  
A mutual fascination, an understanding. She isn't going to run. He won't hurt her.


End file.
